Recap : Jace finished with a smirk. It was indeed A+ strategy.
"Have you met Jonathan, how can we be 100% sure he is on team good, I mean he could manipulate you?"
Clary asked voicing her concern.
Jace and Seb looked at each other debating whether to tell them or not.
Seb sighs then says, "You can trust him, you have mine and Jace's word. He is trustworthy and wouldn't betray our trust. As a matter of fact he has been plotting against Valentine since long. I mean can you imagine Valentine being a good father; he is all torture and abuse. We both even met him today. He introduced us to Madam Ytger. He swore on angel that he is working against Valentine."
"Okay, it's a good strategy I admit, the best to be honest and I am sure being smart people you both are you might have noticed certain loopholes..." Izzy vocalized her opinions
Jace nodded and said, "I understand Izzy, many of the first problem we might encounter is how to bring Downworlders in Idris because of our wards prevent any downworlder to enter."
Jonathan continued, "We also know that demon blood can take down wards and getting ahold of demon blood is difficult, but worry not folks Jonathan Morgestern would come at our rescue."
Jace interjected, "He was injected with demon blood as unborn child by none other than Valentine as one of his experiment, Therefore he is Nephilim and has demon blood to set down wards."
Izzy, Alec and Clary looked horrified at this information, a father injected his own son with that unholy and disgusting venom before he was even born but Sebastian took no heed of their expressions and continued, "To prevent unwanted demons to enter Idris we can use salt and along with it seraph blade's border can be initiated and help of Iron Sisters and Silent Brothers can also be obtained, Iron sisters more easily than Silent Brothers."
Alec hummed in appreciation, "Looks like you both really put aside your differences and now you both are acting weirder by passing second."
Jace was about to reply him with a sarcastic comeback when a knock on the door brought everyone's attention on it which Izzy offered to open.
She opened and stood wide-eye as she looked at a woman with familiar ginger hair and emerald eyes but a lot sharper and older than Clary stood there nervously.
"Who's at the door, Izzy?" Alec asked concern evident in his voice.
Meanwhile Jace whispered to Seb, "Who do you think it is?"
"I have no idea but I have a feeling that I am not going to like it and I don't like this feeling."
"Shit, that is never good."
Sebastian seemingly rolled his eyes for the hundredth time today and was about to reply when Clary interjected and asked them what they both were whispering about to which Sebastian changed the topic and asked Jace and Clary his desire to ask a question to which Jace looked at him suspiciously at Sebastian's stupid smirk but allowed to ask him his question.
"Well now that you both know you are not siblings then why in the name of angel haven't you kissed like honestly I did not waste my time and energy for nothing."
And mission accomplished he thought with a smirk as Clary blushed while Jace glared at him.
"Common buddy don't glare at me, still just kiss already."
"Seb shut up or I will complain to her that you were teasing me and she will ignore you again." Jace countered emphasizing on her and again.
Sebastian glared at him but reluctantly left the topic alone and replied, "Fine take your time, but I want details later, now who is at the door."
The trio made their way towards the door. The three stopped in their steps.
"Mom..." Clary barely whispered
"Clary..." Jocelyn's voice shook, and they both ran towards each other and hugged tightly.
Meanwhile it took everything for Jonathan not to slam the door at her face and crawl in his bed, here was the woman who gave birth to him and then willingly left him to die in fire, the woman whom he hated and despised with passion. But he did take a step back unconsciously that no one but Jace noticed and frowned.
"Clary wouldn't you introduce me to your friends?" Jocelyn asked smiling at everyone.
"This is Isabelle 'Izzy' Lightwood, Alexander 'Alec' Lightwood, Sebastian 'Seb' Verlac and Jace...?"
"Herondale" Sebastian replied giving Jocelyn a very fake smile.
"And Jace Herondale." Clary finished giving a small smile to Seb at the end.
"When did you wake up mom? Are you alright?"
"I am fine Clary, I woke up about now, what about you, how are you sweetheart?"
"I will just leave, Miss Fairchild... I am tired and I am calling it a night. Night guys, night Miss Fairchild."
Sebastian left and the rest heard the slam of his door.
"I don't think he likes me very much." Jocelyn frowned
"Err...well...He has some trust issues... He didn't like me until today and well the feeling was mutual but when we talked today we got along really well because we got to know we have tons similarity."
Jace replied uneasily. What else was he going to say, hey remember your son you left to die didn't really die and that child is Seb... Tah-Dah and sorry but he really hates you for obvious reasons. Ha...Ha...Ha... so funny NOT
"Okay, did you discuss any strategies?" Jocelyn asked
"Actually yes we did but it would be better if I rest now, taming vamps can be tiring job. I am sure Clary would inform you and update you about what you missed while you were in a magical comma." Jace answered her and went to sleep after a long day and after he left Alec and Izzy did too not wanting to intrude their family reunion.
"Why mom?" Clary asked her mom in a desperate voice
"I can explain.... "I was your age when I fell in love with him," Jocelyn said. "I thought he was perfect-brilliant, clever, wonderful, funny, charming. I know, you're looking at me as if I've lost my mind. You only know Valentine the way he is now. You can't imagine what he was like then. When we were at school together, everyone loved him. He seemed to give off light, in a way, like there was some special and brilliantly illuminated part of the universe that only he had access to, and if we were lucky, he might share it with us, even just a little. Every girl loved him, and I thought I didn't have a chance. There was nothing special about me. I wasn't even that popular; Luke was one of my closest friends, and I spent most of my time with him. But still, somehow, Valentine chose me."
Gross, Clary wanted to say. But she held back. Maybe it was the wistfulness in her mother's voice, mixed with regret. Maybe it was what she had said about Valentine giving off light. Clary had thought the same thing about Jace. But maybe everyone in love felt that way.
"Okay," she said, "I get it. But you were sixteen then. That doesn't mean you had to marry him later."
"I was eighteen when we got married. He was nineteen," Jocelyn said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Oh my God," Clary said in horror. "You'd kill me if I wanted to get married when I was eighteen."
"I would," Jocelyn agreed. "But Shadowhunters tend to get married earlier than mundanes. Their-our-life spans are shorter; a lot of us die violent deaths. We tend to do everything earlier because of it. Even so, I was young to get married. Still, my family was happy for me-even Luke was happy for me. Everyone thought Valentine was a wonderful boy. And he was, you know, just a boy then. The only person who ever told me I shouldn't marry him was Madeleine. We'd been friends in school, but when I told her I was engaged, she said that Valentine was selfish and hateful, that his charm masked a terrible amorality. I told myself she was jealous."
"Was she?"
"No," said Jocelyn, "she was telling the truth. I just didn't want to hear it." She glanced down at her hands.
"But you were sorry," Clary said. "After you married him, you were sorry you did it, right?"
"Clary," Jocelyn said. She sounded tired. "We were happy. At least for the first few years. We went to live in my parents' manor house, where I grew up; Valentine didn't want to be in the city, and he wanted the rest of the Circle to avoid Alicante and the prying eyes of the Clave as well. The Waylands lived in the manor just a mile or two from ours, and there were others close by-the Lightwoods, the Penhallows. It was like being at the center of the world, with all this activity swirling around us, all this passion, and through it all I was by Valentine's side. He never made me feel dismissed or inconsequential. No, I was a key part of the Circle. I was one of the few whose opinions he trusted. He told me over and over that without me, he couldn't do any of it. Without me, he'd be nothing."
"He did?" Clary couldn't imagine Valentine saying anything like that, anything that made him sound...vulnerable.
"He did, but it wasn't true. Valentine could never have been nothing. He was born to be a leader, to be the center of a revolution. More and more converts came to him. They were drawn by his passion and the brilliance of his ideas. He rarely even spoke of Downworlders in those early days. It was all about reforming the Clave, changing laws that were ancient and rigid and wrong. Valentine said there should be more Shadowhunters, more to fight the demons, more Institutes, that we should worry less about hiding and more about protecting the world from demonkind. That we should walk tall and proud in the world. It was seductive, his vision: a world full of Shadowhunters, where demons ran scared and mundanes, instead of believing we didn't exist, thanked us for what we did for them. We were young; we thought thanks were important. We didn't know." Jocelyn took a deep breath, as if she were about to dive underwater. "Then I got pregnant."
Clary felt a cold prickle at the back of her neck and suddenly-she couldn't have said why-she was no longer sure she wanted the truth from her mother, no longer sure she wanted to hear, again, how Valentine had made his brother into a monster by injecting demon blood "Mom..."
Jocelyn shook her head blindly. "You asked me why I never told you that you had a brother. This is why." She took a ragged breath. "I was so happy when I found out. And Valentine-he'd always wanted to be a father, he said. To train his son to be a warrior the way his father had trained him. 'Or your daughter,' I'd say, and he'd smile and say a daughter could be a warrior just as well as a boy, and he would be happy with either. I thought everything was perfect.
"And then Luke was bitten by a werewolf. They'll tell you there's a one in two chance that a bite will pass on lycanthropy. I think it's more like three in four. I've rarely seen anyone escape the disease, and Luke was no exception. At the next full moon he Changed. He was there on our doorstep in the morning, covered in blood, his clothes torn to rags. I wanted to comfort him, but Valentine shoved me aside. 'Jocelyn,' he said, 'the baby. ' As if Luke were about to run at me and tear the baby out of my stomach. It was Luke, but Valentine pushed me away and dragged Luke down the steps and into the woods. When he came back much later, he was alone. I ran to him, but he told me that Luke had killed himself in despair over his lycanthropy. That he was...dead."
The grief in Jocelyn's voice was raw and ragged, Clary thought, even now, when she knew Luke hadn't died. But Clary remembered her own despair when she'd held Simon as he'd died on the steps of the Institute. There were some feelings you never forgot.
"But he gave Luke a knife," Clary said in a small voice. "He told him to kill himself. He made Amatis's husband divorce her, just because her brother had become a werewolf."
"I didn't know," Jocelyn said. "After Luke died, it was like I fell into a black pit. I spent months in my bedroom, sleeping all the time, eating only because of the baby. Mundanes would call what I had depression, but Shadowhunters don't have those kinds of terms. Valentine believed I was having a difficult pregnancy. He told everyone I was ill. I was ill-I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking I heard strange noises, cries in the night. Valentine gave me sleeping drafts, but those just gave me nightmares. Terrible dreams that Valentine was holding me down, was forcing a knife into me, or that I was choking on poison. In the morning I'd be exhausted, and I'd sleep all day. I had no idea what was going on outside, no idea that he'd forced Stephen to divorce Amatis and marry Céline. I was in a daze. And then..." Jocelyn knotted her hands together in her lap. They were shaking. "And then I had the baby."
She fell silent, for so long that Clary wondered if she was going to speak again. Jocelyn was staring sightlessly toward the demon towers, her fingers beating a nervous tattoo against her knees. At last she said, "My mother was with me when the baby was born. You never knew her. Your grandmother. She was such a kind woman. You would have liked her, I think. She handed me my son, and at first I knew only that he fit perfectly into my arms, that the blanket wrapping him was soft, and that he was so small and delicate, with just a wisp of fair hair on the top of his head. And then he opened his eyes."
Jocelyn's voice was flat, almost toneless, yet Clary found herself shivering, dreading what her mother might say next. Don't, she wanted to say. Don't tell me. But Jocelyn went on, the words pouring out of her like cold poison.
"Horror washed over me. It was like being bathed in acid-my skin seemed to burn off my bones, and it was all I could do not to drop the baby and begin screaming. They say every mother knows her own child instinctively. I suppose the opposite is true as well. Every nerve in my body was crying out that this was not my baby, that it was something horrible and unnatural, as inhuman as a parasite. How could my mother not see it? But she was smiling at me as if nothing were wrong.
"'His name is Jonathan,' said a voice from the doorway. I looked up and saw Valentine regarding the scene before him with a look of pleasure. The baby opened his eyes again, as if recognizing the sound of his name. His eyes were black, black as night, fathomless as tunnels dug into his skull. There was nothing human in them at all."
There was a long silence. Clary sat frozen, staring at her mother in openmouthed horror. That's her brother she's talking about, she thought. Her brother he was a baby. How could you feel like that about a baby?
"Mom," she whispered. "Maybe-maybe you were in shock or something. Or maybe you were sick-"
"That's what Valentine told me," Jocelyn said emotionlessly. "That I was sick. Valentine adored Jonathan. He couldn't understand what was wrong with me. And I knew he was right. I was a monster, a mother who couldn't stand her own child. I thought about killing myself. I might have done it too-and then I got a message, delivered by fire-letter, from Ragnor Fell. He was a warlock who had always been close to my family; he was the one we called on when we needed a healing spell, that sort of thing. He'd found out that Luke had become the leader of a pack of werewolves in the Brocelind Forest, by the eastern border. I burned the note once I got it. I knew Valentine could never know. But it wasn't until I went to the werewolf encampment and saw Luke that I knew for certain that Valentine had lied to me, lied to me about Luke's suicide. It was then that I started to truly hate him."
"But Luke said you knew there was something wrong with Valentine-that you knew he was doing something terrible. He said you knew it even before he was Changed."
For a moment Jocelyn didn't reply. "You know, Luke should never have been bitten. It shouldn't have happened. It was a routine patrol of the woods, he was out with Valentine-it shouldn't have happened."
"Mom..."
"Luke says I told him I was afraid of Valentine even before he was Changed. He says I told him I could hear screams through the walls of the manor, that I suspected something, dreaded something. And Luke-trusting Luke-asked Valentine about it the very next day. That night Valentine took Luke hunting, and he was bitten. I think-I think Valentine made me forget what I'd seen, whatever had made me afraid. He made me believe it was all bad dreams. And I think he made sure Luke got bitten that night. I think he wanted Luke out of the way so no one could remind me that I was afraid of my husband. But I didn't realize that, not right away. Luke and I saw each other so briefly that first day, and I wanted so badly to tell him about Jonathan, but I couldn't, I couldn't. Jonathan was my son. Still, seeing Luke, even just seeing him, made me stronger. I went home telling myself that I would make a new effort with Jonathan, would learn to love him. Would make myself love him.
"That night I was woken by the sound of a baby crying. I sat bolt upright, alone in the bedroom. Valentine was out at a Circle meeting, so I had no one to share my amazement with. Jonathan, you see, never cried-never made a noise. His silence was one of the things that most upset me about him. I dashed down the hall to his room, but he was sleeping silently. Still, I could hear a baby crying, I was sure of it. I raced down the stairs, following the sound of the crying. It seemed to be coming from inside the empty wine cellar, but the door was locked, the cellar never used. But I had grown up in the manor. I knew where my father hid the key...."
Jocelyn didn't look at Clary as she spoke; she seemed lost in the story, in her memories.
"I never told you the story of Bluebeard's wife, did I, when you were a little girl? The husband told his wife never to look in the locked room, and she looked, and found the remains of all the wives he had murdered before her, displayed like butterflies in a glass case. I had no idea when I unlocked that door what I would find inside. If I had to do it again, would I be able to bring myself to open the door, to use my witchlight to guide me down into the darkness? I don't know, Clary. I just don't know.
"The smell-oh, the smell down there, like blood and death and rot. Valentine had hollowed out a place under the ground, in what had once been the wine cellar. It wasn't a child I had heard crying, after all. There were cells down there now, with things imprisoned in them. Demon-creatures, bound with electrum chains, writhed and flopped and gurgled in their cells, but there was more, much more-the bodies of Downworlders, in different stages of death and dying. There were werewolves, their bodies half-dissolved by silver powder. Vampires held head-down in holy water until their skin peeled off the bones. Faeries whose skin had been pierced with cold iron.
"Even now I don't think of him as a torturer. Not really. He seemed to be pursuing an almost scientific end. There were ledgers of notes by each cell door, meticulous recordings of his experiments, how long it had taken each creature to die. There was one vampire whose skin he had burned off over and over again to see if there was a point beyond which the poor creature could no longer regenerate. It was hard to read what he had written without wanting to faint, or throw up. Somehow I did neither.
"There was one page devoted to experiments he had done on himself. He had read somewhere that the blood of demons might act as an amplifier of the powers Shadowhunters are naturally born with. He had tried injecting himself with the blood, to no end. Nothing had happened except that he had made himself sick. Eventually he came to the conclusion that he was too old for the blood to affect him, that it must be given to a child to take full effect-preferably one as yet unborn.
"Across from the page recording those particular conclusions he had written a series of notes with a heading I recognized. My name. Jocelyn Morgenstern.
"I remember the way my fingers shook while I turned the pages, the words burning themselves into my brain. 'Jocelyn drank the mixture again tonight. No visible changes in her, but again it is the child that concerns me.... With regular infusions of demonic ichor such as I have been giving her, the child may be capable of any feats.... Last night I heard the child's heart beat, more strongly than any human heart, the sound like a mighty bell, tolling the beginning of a new generation of Shadowhunters, the blood of angels and demons mixed to produce powers beyond any previously imagined possible.... No longer will the power of Downworlders be the greatest on this earth....'
"There was more, much more. I clawed at the pages, my fingers trembling, my mind racing back, seeing the mixtures Valentine had given me to drink each night, the nightmares about being stabbed, choked, poisoned. But I wasn't the one he'd been poisoning. It was Jonathan. Jonathan, whom he'd turned into some kind of half-demon thing. And that, Clary-that was when I realized what Valentine really was."
Clary let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. It was horrible-so horrible-and yet it all matched up with the information Sebastian and Jace told her. She wasn't sure whom she felt more pity for, her mother or Jonathan. Jonathan doomed to be not quite human by a father who'd cared more about murdering Downworlders than he had about his own family.
"But-you didn't leave then, did you?" Clary asked, her voice sounding small to her ears. "You stayed...."
"For two reasons," Jocelyn said. "One was the Uprising. What I found in the cellar that night was like a slap in the face. It woke me up out of my misery and made me see what was going on around me. Once I realized what Valentine was planning-the wholesale slaughter of Downworlders-I knew I couldn't let it happen. I began meeting in secret with Luke. I couldn't tell him what Valentine had done to me and to our child. I knew it would just drive him mad, that he'd be unable to stop himself from trying to hunt down Valentine and kill him, and he'd only get himself killed in the process. And I couldn't let anyone else know what had been done to Jonathan either. Despite everything, he was still my child. But I did tell Luke about the horrors in the cellar, of my conviction that Valentine was losing his mind, becoming progressively more insane. Together, we planned to thwart the Uprising. I felt driven to do it, Clary. It was a sort of expiation, the only way I could make myself feel like I had paid for the sin of ever having joined the Circle, of having trusted Valentine. Of having loved him."
"And he didn't know? Valentine, I mean. He didn't figure out what you were doing?"
Jocelyn shook her head. "When people love you, they trust you. Besides, at home I tried to pretend everything was normal. I behaved as though my initial revulsion at the sight of Jonathan was gone. I would bring him over to Maryse Lightwood's house, let him play with her baby son, Alec. Sometimes Céline Herondale would join us-she was pregnant by that time. 'Your husband is so kind,' she would tell me. 'He is so concerned about Stephen and me. He gives me potions and mixtures for the health of the baby; they are wonderful.'"
"Oh," said Clary. "Oh my God."
"That's what I thought," said Jocelyn grimly. "I wanted to tell her not to trust Valentine or to accept anything he gave her, but I couldn't. Her husband was Valentine's closest friend, and she would have betrayed me to him immediately. I kept my mouth shut. Valentine wasn't paying attention to what I was doing. Every day I became more and more frightened that Valentine would discover the conspiracy and try to torture the truth out of me: Who was in our secret alliance? How much had I betrayed of his plans? I wondered how I would withstand torture, whether I could hold up against it. I was terribly afraid that I couldn't. I resolved finally to take steps to make sure that this never happened. I went to Fell with my fears and he created a potion for me-"
"The potion from the Book of the White," Clary said, realizing. "That's why you wanted it. And the antidote-how did it wind up in the Waylands' library?"
"I hid it there one night during a party," said Jocelyn with the trace of a smile. "I didn't want to tell Luke-I knew he'd hate the whole idea of the potion, but everyone else I knew was in the Circle. I sent a message to Ragnor, but he was leaving Idris and wouldn't say when he'd be back. He said he could always be reached with a message-but who would send it? Eventually I realized there was one person I could tell, one person who hated Valentine enough that she'd never betray me to him. I sent a letter to Madeleine explaining what I planned to do and that the only way to revive me was to find Ragnor Fell. I never heard a word back from her, but I had to believe she had read it and understood. It was all I had to hold on to."
"Two reasons," Clary said. "You said there were two reasons that you stayed. One was the Uprising. What was the other?"
Jocelyn's green eyes were tired, but luminous and wide. "Clary," she said, "can't you guess? The second reason is that I was pregnant again. Pregnant with you."
"Oh," Clary said in a small voice. She remembered Luke saying, She was carrying another child and had known it for weeks. "But didn't that make you want to run away even more?"
"Yes," Jocelyn said. "But I knew I couldn't. If I'd run away from Valentine, he would have moved heaven and hell to get me back. He would have followed me to the ends of the earth, because I belonged to him and he would never have let me go. And maybe I would have let him come after me, and taken my chances, but I would never have let him come after you." She pushed her hair back from her tired-looking face. "There was only one way I could make sure he never did. And that was for him to die."
Clary looked at her mother in surprise. Jocelyn still looked tired, but her face was shining with a fierce light.
"I thought he'd be killed during the Uprising," she said. "I couldn't have killed him myself. I couldn't have brought myself to, somehow. But I never thought he'd survive the battle. And later, when the house burned, I wanted to believe he was dead. I told myself over and over that he and Jonathan had burned to death in the fire. But I knew..." Her voice trailed off. "It was why I did what I did. I thought it was the only way to protect you-taking your memories, making you into as much of a mundane as I could. Hiding you in the mundane world. It was stupid, I realize that now, stupid and wrong. And I'm sorry, Clary. I just hope you can forgive me-if not now, then in the future."
"Mom." Clary cleared her throat. She'd felt like she was about to cry for pretty much the last ten minutes. "It's okay."
"Clary." Jocelyn reached out and took Clary's hand in hers. "There's more that I have to tell you. There's nothing more that I hid from you, or lied about. But there are things I never knew, things I only just discovered. And they may be very hard to hear."
Worse than what you've already told me? Clary thought. She bit her lip and nodded. "Go ahead and tell me. I'd rather know."
"When Dorothea told me that Valentine had been sighted in the city, I knew he was there for me-for the Cup. I wanted to flee, but I couldn't bring myself to tell you why. I don't blame you at all for running from me that awful night, Clary. I was just glad you weren't there when your father-when Valentine and his demons broke into our apartment. I just had time to swallow the potion-I could hear them breaking the door down..." She trailed off, her voice tight. "I hoped Valentine would leave me for dead, but he didn't. He brought me to Renwick's with him. He tried various methods to wake me up, but nothing worked. I was in a sort of dream state; I was half-conscious that he was there, but I couldn't move or respond to him. I doubt he thought I could hear or understand him. And yet he would sit by the bed while I slept and talk to me."
"Talk to you? About what?"
"About our past. Our marriage. How he had loved me and I had betrayed him. How he hadn't loved anyone since. I think he meant it too, as much as he could mean these things. I had always been the one he'd talked to about the doubts he had, the guilt he felt, and in the years since I'd left him I don't think there'd ever been anyone else. I think he couldn't stop himself from talking to me, even though he knew he shouldn't. I think he just wanted to talk to someone. You'd have thought that what was on his mind would be what he'd done to those poor people, making them Forsaken, and what he was planning to do to the Clave. But it wasn't. What he wanted to talk about was Jonathan."
"What about him?"
Jocelyn's mouth tightened. "He wanted to tell me he was sorry for what he'd done to Jonathan before he'd been born, because he knew it had nearly destroyed me. He'd known I was close to suicide over Jonathan-though he didn't know I was also despairing over what I'd discovered about him. He'd somehow gotten hold of angel blood. It's an almost legendary substance for Shadowhunters. Drinking it is supposed to give you incredible strength. Valentine had tried it on himself and discovered that it gave him not just increased strength but a feeling of euphoria and happiness every time he injected it into his blood. So he took some, dried it to powder, and mixed it into my food, hoping it would help my despair."
I know where he got hold of angel blood, Clary thought, thinking of Ithuriel with a sharp sadness. "Do you think it worked at all?"
"I do wonder now if that was why I suddenly found the focus and the ability to go on, and to help Luke thwart the Uprising. It would be ironic if that was the case, considering why Valentine did it in the first place. But what he didn't know was that while he was doing this, I was pregnant with you. So while it may have affected me slightly, it affected you much more. I believe that's why you can do what you can with runes."
"And maybe," Clary said, "why you can do things like trap the image of the Mortal Cup in a tarot card. And why Valentine can do things like take the curse off Hodge-"
"Valentine has had years of experimenting on himself in a myriad of ways," said Jocelyn. "He's as close now as a human being, a Shadowhunter, can get to a warlock. But nothing he can do to himself would have the kind of profound effect on him it would have on you or Jonathan, because you were so young. I'm not sure anyone's ever before done what Valentine did, not to a baby before it was born." "So Jonathan-and I really were both experiments."
"You were an unintentional one. With Jonathan, Valentine wanted to create some kind of superwarrior, stronger and faster and better than other Shadowhunters. At Renwick's, Valentine told me that Jonathan really was all those things. But that he was also cruel and amoral and strangely empty. Jonathan was loyal enough to Valentine, but I suppose Valentine realized that somewhere along the way, in trying to create a child who was superior to others, he'd created a son who could never really love him."
Both Clary and Jocelyn were silent for a moment. Clary because she has yet to digest all the data and Jocelyn because she revealed almost everything to Clary and she has yet to react.
"Jace met Jonathan today, he said Jonathan swore on angel to work against Clave and helped him with an alliance with vampire."
"Impossible we will talk tomorrow."
"What? What are supposed to do mom?"
"Do not trust him! He is a master in manipulation and could be charming when he wants."
"Mom, you left him to alone... it is safe to say he despises you and if he swore on angel it must be fulfilled... you know mom that no one can break the vow swore to the Angel."
"Clary we will talk about this later."
Jocelyn replied to her forcefully but Clary didn't back down then defied her mom and spatted,
"No mom we are talking about this now. You know that if you hadn't abandoned him and instead took him with you he could have been a better person. Blood doesn't define anyone; we could have been a family. You were wrong to do this and you know that. Bye mom I will see you in the morning."
With that she turned her heeled and stormed to her room feeling lighter.
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A/N
Another chapter within this month because lets me honest my updates are late very late ..
So to all the directions out there, happy #9YearsOfOneDirection...
And hope you liked the chapter, there are some direct quotes from City of Glass..
Jocelyn is back ...
Would try to update soon...
Please vote and comment.. Don't be a silent reader
Happy reading
😊